Page 56 of Isolation
“Why do you need so much money?” I bite my tongue when the rude question slips out. I need to work on my filter. Ever since I hit my head, I have a foot in the mouth syndrome. “Sorry,” I try to recover. “I meant you are already well off. So, is it ambition or is it about making ends meet?”
Milo gives me a long look. He looks... lonely. “You know, people think that if you have money then all of your money problems disappear. It’s not true. The more money you have, the more expenses you accrue and the more responsibilities land on you.” His half smile is nothing more than an exhausted smile. A sad smile.
“Expenses? You mean your bougie apartment?” I tease, hoping to cheer him up even though I am not sure what’s bothering him. “Or does the responsible Milo Sinclair secretly harbor expensive vices that none of us simpletons are aware of?”
He still only gives me half a smile. But when he runs a hand through the long hair partially covering his eyes, his hair moves, letting me see that his eyes are now lit up.
Taking the challenge to heart, I suddenly want nothing more than a genuine smile out of him. “What is this secret expensive habit of yours, Milo? Ooo… Do you spend all of your money indulging in expensive whores?”
“Hey,” he scowls at me, “that’s not cool.”
“Oh right, they are called high class escorts,” I nod once with mock understanding.
“Rave,” Milo warns.
“No?” I tilt my feigned confused face. “Lady of the night?”
Milo’s face finally splits open with a genuine, gorgeous fucking smile. He plays along with me. His pretend exasperated voice doesn’t hide his amusement. “Sure. Why not?”
“That’s too easy of an admission so it’s gotta be something else. Gambling problems?”
“Amongst other things,” he says casually, with an air of feigned mystery.
“What other things? Crack? Heroin?”
Milo playfully lifts a bored shoulder.
“Expensive mail order brides?”
“Sure, Raven.”
“Midget tossing?”
“What?” Milo’s mouth drops open at my ridiculous suggestion.
“Haven’t you seenWolf of Wall Street? It’s in the movie and it’s a very expensive habit.”
“Raven!” Guardian Milo’s disciplining voice is out. “First of all, please use less offensive terms in your references, such as a little person or someone with dwarfism,” he corrects my less than politically correct language.
“You are right. Sorry, little person tossing,” I correct myself and Milo rolls his eyes.
“Second of all, that’s an awful thing to do,” he chides.
“Versus the crack, cocaine, heroin, and the ladies of the night?”
“You didn’t mention cocaine,” he counters. “And none of those included tossing an actual human being as target practice. That’s inhumane.”
“Well, obviously I think it’s uncool,” I defend my honor. “It was the men inWolf of Wall Streetwho did it.”
“That’s the peer pressure sentiment,” Milo tsks at me. “If all of your friends jump off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge as well?”
“You tell me, Milo! All of my friends just died jumping off a bridge, and now I am pretty fucking depressed. So, maybe!”
Milo looks at me with his mouth wide open and bursts out laughing, almost toppling over at my comment. I put on a smile as well, realizing my joke might be of poor taste… to myself.
Milo stops laughing and casually reaches over to open up my fist. I didn’t realize that I was digging my nails into my palm again. It’s a nervous habit I picked up over the last few years. Neither of us comment on it as he affectionately entangles our fingers to hold my hand.
“You know,” I say in a prying tone. “If you give me an answer to my question, then I’ll stop coming up with all theseinhumaneguesses. Just give me an example.” I am feeling genuinely curious and nosey at this point. Why does he work so damn much? “For example…” I trail off by moving my hand in a waving motion, encouraging him to finish the sentence.
